


Smoke filled room

by WingsandImpalas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 1920's AU, Bartender Dean, Dean and Cas eat pie, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, M/M, pianist castiel, speakeasys, two dorks in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 06:55:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11572743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingsandImpalas/pseuds/WingsandImpalas
Summary: When Cas first met Dean he had just finished playing his first set and sat down on one of the barstools, his hands shaking from the rush of his performance. Dean appeared from the smoke filled room, in a cheap shirt and a million dollar smile. Cas thought he was beautiful. He didn't say so of course, he was too careful back then.





	Smoke filled room

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fangirling_FTW](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirling_FTW/gifts).



> Written for @fangirling_FTW birthday. I hope you have an amazing day, I was going write you porn but then I thought since i never write that before it would be an odd present to recieve so have some vintage destiel instead. 
> 
> My knowledge of this era is sorely lacking but I got this idea in my head and I had a mighty need to write it in like two days (because someone didn't mention it was they're birthday until then.) so I gave it a go. I hope you like it.

 

* * *

****

Billies voice wavers as she sings the crooning notes of their final song. She's got a good voice, strong and powerful and too damn good for a place like this. He presses slightly harder on the keys on the last verse, focusing on the chords instead of the smell of tobacco in his lungs. He feels composed when he does this, he's not a train wreck when he's performing. He's got the act down to a fine art, he's straight backed, finely clothed, a dark red bow tie is firmly in place matching Billies dark red dress.

He refuses to acknowledge the eyes on the back of his neck, but if he breathes a little easier because of them no one will know.

Eventually the music ends and polite applause fills the room, a dancer called Jo winks at him when he stands and points to the bar. Cas nods back but doesn't move until Billies bowed and has left first. Once he's free from the glare of the lights he loosens the tie, allowing the strip of cheap fabric to hang around his neck. He undoes the top two buttons of his shirt and nods too Gabriel as the man shoves past him with a large saxophone case. Gabe pats his shoulder then climbs on the stage, Cas moves to the bar. He sits on the burnt red stools and wipes the sweat from the back of his neck.

“Not bad.” Dean says in his Brooklyn Irish draw. He bumps Cas’s wrist, briefly allowing his finger to slip underneath the cuff of Cas's shirt and caress the skin beneath before swiftly pulling back. “The usual?” He asks sounding completely unaffected.

Cas sighs, “yes” he mutters catching Dean's eye. They have to be careful here, despite the fact that Crowley has broken the prohibition laws by opening this place there are still some laws to serious to bend, even for a man like him.

Bearing that in mind Cas turns from Dean, searching the bar stools for the owner and spots him near the end speaking to similar, finely suited man. He approaches them slowly, despite appearances Crowley is a dangerous man, but Cas has rent to pay and he needs the cash tonight.

When Crowley spots him he smiles. “Well if it isn't everyone's favourite performing angel, what can I do for you feathers?” He asks fixing the red carnation in his black suit.

Cas resists the urge to roll his eyes, “I’d like my pay check please.”

Crowley gives a long put upon sigh before pulling out the crumpled bills from his suit jacket. The other gentleman smiles with interest but doesn't speak when Crowley passes over the bills, Cas takes them and walks away. It's two dollars less than last time but Cas still gives Billie her usual share, he’ll deal with the fact he's going to be short.

He's got another job working for his brothers accounting firm but Michael has a habit of skimming from the top and ignoring the rest of his task force. It's why he began playing here in the first place.

Dean gives him a searching glance when Cas reclaims his stool, gently palming a whisky into Cas’s hand. They're fingers brush. “He underpay you again?” He asks, voice filled with barely contained rage.

“Yes, he did.”

Dean clenches his fists, “that dick I swear if I..”

“Do anything you'd lose your job and then we'd both be in trouble.”

Dean let's out a frustrated breath, “I know.” He sighs catching Cas’s eyes again. Cas smiles remembering the first night they met.

It was almost a year ago, when Cas first met Dean he had just finished playing his first set and sat down on one of the barstools, his hands shaking from the rush of his performance. Dean appeared from the smoke filled room, in a cheap shirt and a million dollar smile. Cas thought he was beautiful. He didn't say so of course, he was too careful back then.

With Dean it took time, hours of small talk and lingering glances, years of repression battling with the hope he felt every time Dean looked his way. Cas would probably have ignored Dean forever if Dean hadn't made the first move. His shift was almost over and they were talking about music “I've got some off those jazz records you like, if you're interested.” Dean had said with a lopsided grin. Cas remembers how he looked at Dean. One part hopeful, two parts terrified and completely desperate when he said those words. He followed Dean home that night, kissed him for the first time under some busted streetlamp, greedily inhaling the taste of stale smoke and whisky on Dean's tongue.

When they stumbled into Dean's apartment Cas fucked him on the mattress, the springs softly squeaking despite the lack of a bed frame. They laid around for a while after that, smiling at each other in the afterglow. They did eventually listen to the records while smoking out Dean's window. He left that morning, familiar with how coffee tastes on Dean's tongue. He didn't know if that night would ever happen again, but thankfully it did, over and over again until Cas became so desperately in love with Dean it hurts.

“I'd take on the world for you, I could.” Dean mutters head tilted into Cas’s side. Cas enjoys the sight of Dean's blush coating his skin. Dean pushes his side mumbles “shut up” as he walks away to serve other patrons. Cas laughs at him allowing Dean to let the intimacy of his words go.

It was something he learned early on, Dean can't handle saying words of affection, Cas had to watch Dean pull away the first time he muttered I love you into his neck. It hurt but a few hours later Dean sung love songs into Cas’s hair as they swayed around his apartment with the blinds shut. To this day Dean has never said the words back, preferring to show his reciprocation with subtle gestures. A love song in his ear, his favourite coffee on the dresser, and sometimes when Dean's feeling brave he feels a “me too.” Pressed into his skin. Cas can handle that though. He can handle anything when Dean's by his side.  
  
\---

It's three am when he finally trudges up the stairs leading out of the speakeasy. Cas as usual stayed until Dean's shift was about to end before sneaking out to wait for him outside. It's become a routine of theirs, Cas will perform every Thursday and Saturday, he will leave meet Dean outside so they don't seem to obvious and for a few hours they'll pretend they're both normal.

He knocks lightly on the door patiently waiting for Charlie to open the hidden door. When he steps out of the dark staircase he enters her little bookshop and smiles. Crowleys basement is always gloomy, filled with gas lamps and cigar smoke, it clashes splendidly with the storefront above. The bookshelves are organised and spaced out elegantly, with bright paintings on the walls. The door to Charlie's apartment can be glimpsed above the steel staircase, with piles of books littered on them seemly at random. The shutters to the store are closed but behind Charlie's frame he can see a gas lamp lit beside her reading nook.

He has no idea how or why Charlie began letting her basement out to Crowley but he grateful for it. After all without Crowley's he'd never have met Dean. It's still odd though, Charlie rarely comes downstairs, preferring to read in the corner of her store, only appearing on Saturday nights when Glinda does some singing. Cas can sympathise with her on that.

“You have a good night?” Charlie asks after Cas closes the door.

“I did, Billie was exceptional as usual.”   
  
Charlie smiles, “You probably were great too, stop being modest.”

Cas shrugs, he not trying to be modest, he's just not the best pianist in the city, like Charlie suggests sometimes. He learnt piano because his mother taught him to, mostly Christian hymns that he could play at mass on Sundays. It wasn't until he moved to New York that he learned how to play the blues, he's still getting used to it. Billie though belongs on the records.

They chat briefly about nonsense, Charlie wants to know if Gabes playing has got worse since her last visit, It has. Cas asks about her latest novel and the two fall into an easy discussion before there's another knock at the door. Charlie pushes it open and Dean grins brightly at her. He's wearing a dark green suit jacket over his dark slacks and pale shirt. Cas remembers leaving the jacket on his couch last Sunday. Dean smirks, when he's sees Cas’s smile. “Evenin’ Charlie” he mutters closing the door.

Charlie smiles at him “Evenin’” she says, winking at them both when they leave.

Outside the air is damp from earlier rainfall, Cas hopes there's no leaks in Dean's roof again, last time was unpleasant and Cas spent half the time terrified Dean was gonna get sick from the damp. Despite the fact that Dean's apartment is a shit hole they still walk to it. Mostly because it's closer, to get to Cas’s they'd have to take a tram.

Dean leans into his side, “You working tomorrow?” He asks.

Cas shakes his head. He usually gets Fridays and Sundays off unless he needs the cash, but on the rare times he does work, he can't stay with Dean that night. Dean smiles brightly and Cas chuckles.

“The jacket suits you.” He says brushing his arm against Dean's.

Dean ducks his head.“You don't mind?” He asks.

“No, I like you in my clothes” Cas smirks “almost as much as I like you without any at all.”

A small flush fill Dean's features but he walks with slightly more swagger than usual. “Is that so?” He says with a slight leer.

Cas nods, far to stiffly for the discussion causing Dean to laugh. He has an awful laugh, somehow sounding like a walrus with asthma. Cas tries to hear it as often as he can.

Dean pushes him to the left and he stumbles into the side street that leads to Dean's apartment. They climb the step together, at least until they reach the third floor when Dean starts to complain as usual. Cas takes the key from Dean's slack hand and sprints up the final staircase. Dean curses behind him. “What happened to no man getting left behind” Dean moans as he slogs along in Cas’s wake. Cas’s laugh echos of the hallway.

He unlocks Dean's door with practiced ease, turning on the light as he pulls of his trenchcoat. He freezes when he sees the coffee table. Dean comes in behind him, wraps his arms around Cas’s waist and presses a kiss below his ear. “Happy Birthday, sweetheart.” He mumbles, Cas can feel a soft smile again his skin.

A vase of sunflowers sits in the centre of the table, flowers drooping slightly over a cased pie that's sitting beside a newspaper. It's probably cold, but Cas can't remember the last time he ate one. “Dean-” Cas says Smiling brightly, he turns his head, presses a kiss Dean's cheek then another against his mouth. “Thank you.”

Dean's eyes glow with pride as he leans in again, the kiss is longer this time, something sweet that needs to be savoured. Cas briefly darts his tongue into Dean's mouth and Dean thumbs lightly at the back of his neck. When they pull apart Cas rests their foreheads together and presses a small kiss to Dean's nose.

Dean smiles as he pulls back, trailing his fingers lightly over Cas’s ribs. “I'm gonna go get some plates m’kay”

Cas leans in again just for a small peck. “‘Kay”

Dean shuffles into the kitchen as Cas walks to the coffee table. The flowers don't smell like much, but they're beautiful anyway and Cas can't help but caress a petal with his thumb. From kitchen he hears the clatter of plates and the scratch of Dean's record player as he puts on a song. It's one he's never heard before, something light yet haunting. He presses his fingers into the coffee table's edge, clumsy fingers attempting to mimic the keys by ear. When he looks up Dean's leaning against the door frame, he's got the plates balanced in one hand and he's looking at Cas likes he's the only light in the room.

Cas ducks his head bashfully as Dean saunters into the room. He sits on the couch beside Cas, puts the plates down before grabbing Cas’s hands and kissing his knuckles. Cas smiles brightly, since the first night Dean's always been like this, soft and easy with affection in a way that isn't slezey or sexual. It makes Cas feel loved more than the words ever could.

Stroking his thumb ago Dean's jaw Cas pulls back and grabs the knife he cuts a slice for himself and then a slightly larger one for Dean. The smell of the apple filling hits his nose. “I didn't know you could bake.”

Dean snorts. “I can't, you remember Eileen, Sam's wife. She made it for as a favor for fixing her shelves.”

Cas nods briefly. He met Dean's little brother twice. The first time at the club, when Sam showed up out of curiosity. He was polite to Cas when they spoke and winked at Dean before he left that night. A week later Dean convinced Cas to join Sam and his wife for Sunday breakfast at a dinner. Sam had looked between the two of them knowingly, signing to Eileen with words he didn't understand. Cas remembers being terrified Sam was going to say something horrible to either of them, Dean spent the whole time with his hand discretely placed on Cas’ thigh. When they left Sam had given them both a knowing look, shook Cas's hand and said he “hoped they meet again sometime.” It was the first time Cas was giving acceptance from someone he wasn't involved with. He sobbed for an hour when he got home.

He doesn't cry this time, it's a close call but he manages a watery grin, one that he guarantees Dean sees straight through. He eats his pie and listens to the music. “Will you tell her I said thank you?”

“Course I will or you could come with, this Sunday and tell her yourself.”

“Maybe I will.”

Dean beams at him, stabs his pie again smiles around each mouthful. When they finish Dean leans against the side of the couch and Cas slowly leans into him, until his heads lying in Dean's lap. Dean chuckles softly and runs his hands through his hair. “Did you read the paper today?” Dean asks.

Cas raises his eyebrow. “No, since when do you?”

Dean flicks his nose. “I'll have you know I'm an educated man Cas, gotta keep up with all the other educated men in my field.”

“Cause the dockworkers always write recent developments in the times.”

Dean laughs, “I was actually referring to the news of my fellow criminals but yeah that too, smartass.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Why did you want to know if I read the paper Dean?”

Dean smiles, leans over to get the paper from the coffee table, shoving Cas briefly from his spot before he settles back in. “Cause of this.” He explains handing Cas the paper. It's open on the classifieds section, a small advertisement is circled in red, he reads the first line.

_Wanted Tenants for two bedroomed apartment._

Cas sits up “Dean..”

Dean holds up his hands “Before you start panicking just hear me out, okay? The place isn't to far from here, closer to the tram lines so you could still get to work and the rents not that bad, especially if we put our funds together and it's about ten times better than this shit hole….” Cas kisses him quiet fully aware Dean will babble until the cows come home if giving half the chance.

Cas sighs when he pulls back, Dean strokes his thumb down Cas’s arm. “Dean I’d love to move in with you. But are you sure?” Dean rolls his eyes, Cas smacks shoulder. “I'm serious Dean, we’d have to be careful all the time, probably invite Charlie around a couple of times to throw of suspicion and you… you could hate living with me and then what would happen…”

Dean strokes his cheek, Cas sighs gently leaning into the touch. “I could never hate you, baby.”

Cas shakes his head “You -”

“Never. I swear.” Dean mumbles, he presses his head into Cas's neck, strokes his back until his breathing starts to calm down. “I know it's gonna take work sweetheart, I know. But every time you leave that door I… God this is corny, you know I'm bad with words but I swear sweetheart every time you walk out that door, you take a piece of me with you and I just… I want you around all the godamm time Cas. I want to come home to you.”

Cas’ breath hitches. He slams his mouth against Dean's, positions himself until he's basically sitting in Dean's lap. Dean kisses back with equal enthusiasm, teeth pulling at his lips as he places a hand on Cas’s hip. Pulling back for air Cas breathes “okay.” Into Dean's mouth. Dean kisses him again but they eventually need to pull back, to busy smiling to do much else. Cas leans his forehead against Dean's “I love you.”

“Me too.” Dean replies.

 


End file.
